


listen before i go

by weeniewife



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses, Fire Emblem: Soen no Kiseki/Akatsuki no Megami | Fire Emblem Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drinking to Cope, Established Relationship, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Sick Character, Two Fathers, rodrigue is dying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-15 22:15:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29321484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weeniewife/pseuds/weeniewife
Summary: Rodrigue has recently learned he doesn't have much time left and is expecting it to be a good reason for his new partner to leave him. Haar's used to loss, though, and hasn't budged.[everyone's living in the same apartment complex au; post-rd Haar transplanted into modern Fodlan]
Relationships: Haar (fire emblem)/Rodrigue Achille Fraldarius
Kudos: 1
Collections: apartment au!





	listen before i go

**Author's Note:**

> major trigger warning for Rodrigue's condition, this is just a sadfic about Haar's eventual loss and the dark place Roddy's in.
> 
> takes place in evergreen au, where almost everyone is living in the same apartment complex. Rodrigue and Haar have been dating for several months.

Rodrigue sat his glasses on his desk and pinched the bridge of his nose. He had plenty of material to get through, several time-sensitive documents to memorize and use in the following meeting. He had two days until it happened, and the next was filled with work.

He had to plan out how to tell the board of representatives about these new, unexplained continents eventually as well. The fact they seemingly sprung up from nowhere was both incredible and terrifying; he wasn’t sure if he should be honored with the trust that had been placed in him or in fear of what would happen because he’d remained silent. The church had taken over everything, orchestrated whatever merge was happening. Everything was higher up than Rodrigue himself, yet here he was - completely aware of everything.

The church being what was solely involved was the most peculiar part, which meant it could only be some sort of unexplainable, divine magic. But would Fodlan accept that as its cause? Would the rest of the representatives truly go along with _that?_

“Hey.” A soft, sleepy voice let him know he was no longer alone. Haar set down a glass at his desk, and the smell let Rodrigue know his partner could sense the extra stress he was under.

He was more of a brandy guy, but Haar was right - whiskey did tend to get the job done quick enough.

“Thank you.”

Though he wouldn’t touch it until his work was as complete as it could be, and he shouldn’t touch it altogether, the sentiment alone was able to pull the man back into the words he’d been staring at.

“Can’t talk to me about it, can you.” It wasn’t even much of a question. Haar was used to it.

“I’m unsure, honestly…” He folded his hands. “This? I can’t. But that’s not really what’s on my mind.”

Haar hummed softly, as if he understood exactly what he meant. He moved the papers out of the way on one side to half-park himself at the desk. “So?”

“Dimitri’s friend. The one with the wings. He has been here as long as you have, is that right?”

“Yeah, we got here at the same time.” He paused. “You’re thinking of how to introduce this place to the laguz?”

“I am.”

“I’d leave that to them. They’ve had enough people who formed their own opinions on em and preached it before they got the chance.” He sighed loudly. “And the heron, in particular…”

“What about him?”

Haar sat in thought for a long minute, pondering if it was his story to tell. He was young when the heron clan was massacred by his people, though old enough to want to do something about it. But he was still too young to truly do anything that mattered.

“That shouldn’t be what you’re worried about.”

“I would much rather distract myself and spend my time attempting to make life a little better for those who do not have the same security and privilege as I.” Rodrigue shook his head. “Was it for land? Wealth?”

“Revenge,” Haar replied plainly. “Whole thing was a setup and everybody knew. There were rumors of an angry heron with dark wings spotted with the apostle before she was assassinated, so they pinned it on them.”

The man had his partner’s attention, and he took a drink from his glass with a shaky hand. He knew he’d need it.

“And to make ‘em pay, the people of the country I grew up in set fire to them all.”

“…All of them?”

“All of them.” Haar didn’t emote, his expression near unreadable. His eye betrayed him. Rodrigue could almost see the tear stinging at it. “Three survived.”

Rodrigue knew in his heart that he couldn’t say it sounded like something that could never happen. When Fodlan’s beloved Lambert was taken, the entire country went up in arms. People suffered for that, too. All for no good reason.

“It seems Fodlan and Tellius have something in common.”

“A shame that it’s something like that.” He slunk down from the spot he was leaning on the desk to the ground, looking up at his partner with sadness etched into his face. “Let’s stop this talk for now, though. Get your stuff done so you can get some rest.”

“I’m fine, Haar.” To show he meant it, Rodrigue took a drink and focused on steadying his hand. “I’m a grown man, don’t worry about me.”

“Impossible to stop.” Haar sighed, knowing the man was stubborn enough to will himself into believing his own lie. “Can you at least just get this over with so I can let you fall asleep distracted from all of this? We don’t have all night.”

“Tired?”

“Surprise.”

“I… suppose I could handle taking a day and worrying about memorizing this tomorrow. Surely everyone wouldn’t _completely_ mind if I pushed the rest of my duties back a day or so… with the current predicament.” Rodrigue backed his chair away from his desk, pondering if he truly wanted to abandon his work. Before he could be sure Haar reached out from his spot on the ground to place a hand on his knee, looking up at him with the grief written plainly on his face.

“First… do you feel alright? You do look a little better today.”

“I feel well enough.” With his hand now resting on the sleepy man’s, he used the other to bring his glass up to his lips. Rodrigue had to focus on the shaking, but it had been far worse before. Once the drink was down, his throat and his belly warm, his focus shifted to the hand he was now holding. “You’ve been fighting again.”

Haar took it away.

“Just keeping in shape, don’t worry about it.”

“I suppose I have no choice but to trust you, I’m sure I would do the same if things were different.”

“You don’t.” Haar stood, reaching his hand out again. “C’mon, bedtime.”

“I suppose this means you’ll stay tonight?”

“Maybe I’ll leave when you fall asleep or something. Any chance I got with you still up -”

“I’m not quite dying yet, you know.”

Silence.

It was difficult for the both of them to hear out loud still. There was nothing either of them could say or do to stop whatever was happening. Rodrigue elected to keep himself working as the doctors did their tests. He decided to continue his life as usual until he was unable to. But for now, there was only a shake in his hands, unfocus in his eyes, weaknesses in his knees, and a quiver to his breath. As far as he was concerned, it was typical aging and repayment for all of his years stewing in anger.

He’d trade the remainder of his life alone for a handful of months with this stranger. He had prayed so many hundreds of hours, had begged the goddess to bring back his boys in exchange for his life.

Dimitri had returned and the goddess was merely keeping her end of the deal.

Felix was another monster entirely. But with the new perspective shift, with everything he’d put himself through in the past two years, they were making progress. It seemed his son had accepted his new partner, miraculously, and every bit of advice the man gamed seemed to work in Rodrigue’s favor. Father and son finally interacted in the way they should after so many years of strain. After Dimitri returned and it became even more difficult to be around each other. But as of the past few months, even before Rodrigue learned of his body’s ailments, they were a family again.

Haar claimed to have never had a child, that he had not lost one either. But Haar was still holding his own demons in his heart. Rodrigue knew he was hiding something.

Concealing secrets or not, his past was none of Rodrigue’s concern at that moment. The only thing that mattered to him was the heart that must have thawed over and over again and spilled over like the countryside he supposedly fled to. There was no question that Haar was a good man cursed in his youth to lead a difficult life. He only wanted to rest after years of being forced to run, to prove himself, to be forced to die for being an outsider. That much he knew to be true.

The way his hands were rough and calloused, like Rodrigue’s own but so much more cracked and scarred. But they were _gentle._

He had lived through a great deal of sorrow. He had seen far too much death for any man, had been the one to take someone’s life near hundreds of times when all he ever seemed to want was to be _comfortable._ For Rodrigue to steal away his retirement to love someone who was given maybe months to live only just into their relationship was cruel.

To put him through any more tragedy when he had clearly lost everything in his old life was twisted and selfish.

“I’m not leaving just because you’re sick. That isn’t me.” Haar would remind him, and he would run his hand through Rodrigue’s hair knowing one day he would no longer be able to. “And I’m not stickin’ around out of pity, either.”

“You’re nothing if not loyal.”

“Depends on the man I’m under.” There was a smile to his voice but none on his face. “I have every reason to want to be here. I told myself to live without regret, and I would regret any time I didn’t spend with you when I could. Even if it gets ugly.”

Haar was the only man who had ever understood him truly. He never asked for details, did not offer up his tears, or take away from Rodrigue when he was grieving. He allowed the man his pain. He offered his hand only when necessary. And did not leave when things became less than perfect.

Rodrigue was a broken man even before the illness began to take him. He had been bludgeoned by years of believing the earth at his feet belonged to him and learning just how insignificant he could be.

By bringing his first son into the world, blessed with a boy that looked so much like him and carried out everything he believed in - watching as his second son tore his wife’s life away from her only to grow to have her eyes, looking onto Rodrigue with such disdain.

By watching his closest friend rise to be one of the most beloved men in Fodlan’s known history, to watching as he became some sort of symbol for people to defile it in the name of justice. They drenched his good name in blood.

But Haar looked at him the same as he looked at any other man, with one good eye. With indifference but one could tell he was paying more attention than he ever let on.

He was the kind of man to do incredible things but claim it was a fluke.

Rodrigue would never know how true that hunch was. Haar was never going to be one to boast.

Haar was the kind of man to do exactly as he was told, as any good soldier should. But he chose to show one face to everyone around him, and they saw only the lazy, half-drunk killing machine that he presented. So if he were to let a laguz found hiding in Daein soil go, it was because he was too lazy to chase them. He would order his platoon to stand down despite their thirst for ‘sub-human’ blood under the ruse he was too lazy to defy orders when told to overlook a port after the initial defeat of Crimea.

All Rodrigue needed to know was that Haar would never lie to him. He may hide the truth, he may not speak of his past, but his hands would tell the stories.

And his lips, which words would only fall from if necessary, were just as gentle as his heart. His hands would go through Rodrigue’s hair, carefully smoothing through the waves and cradling his face as though he were holding something precious. Like his hands weren’t stained. As if he were deserving of the love he was being given.

When they had finally fallen into each other, no more words needed, Haar pulled away to take in his lover’s face and study it as though it would be the last time.

Rodrigue’s chest tightened as he found himself doing the same. He knew all too well the pain of forgetting, how much he wished he knew when the last day would have come so that he could’ve done this, himself. How he knew whatever Haar lost included the person he must have been n love with, as Rodrigue recognized the pain in his face all too well.

“You know, you don’t need to -”

“Quiet.” He wasn’t going to cry. He was too old, too hardened for it. He hadn’t still. Not since the day they buried the girl. Not since “peace” truly began. He couldn’t do that now. Not when Rodrigue was suffering so silently.

They went a while like that, blanketed in the dim candlelight that had become the norm for when Haar stayed over. Something softer on his eye, less harsh than the bright fluorescent lighting he was still getting used to.

“You’re looking at me like it will be the last time. I told you,” Rodrigue paused, only to stop himself from saying too much. “I’m not going anywhere yet. I still have two boys to finish raising.”

Haar snorted in response.  
No matter the circumstances, Felix and Dimitri were both in their mid-twenties. They were adults. He wouldn’t protest.

“…Like I couldn’t take you out in a fight,” Rodrigue’s challenge was half-serious.

“You could try. Maybe I’d let you win.”

At least he got a few words out of him.

“Please, Haar. What would be the fun in that?”

“The fun? You’d probably get off my back and be quiet.” It was obvious he didn’t mean it. Both of them knew Rodrigue was incapable at this point.

“Tell me something, if you would..”

Right now, maybe Haar _would_ speak.

“If today _was_ my last -”

“Old man, I swear, if you -”

“Hush,” he interrupted. “I’ve earned the right to think in such a way. If it were, would you regret coming to Fodlan? Would you have wished to do anything with me before I was gone?”

“Huh. Guess there always is the risk of an accident…”

_“Haar.”_

“No.” He stopped, closing his eye as he always did before saying more than a sentence or two of compiled complaints. “I know better than to live with any regrets by now. _But it isn’t me you should worry about.”_

“I assure you, I _am_ worried for him.” Rodrigue sighed and the breath hung in the space between them. “And I should be, especially because it _is_ my son you have been fighting. Is it not?”

“Yeah.”

He almost wasn’t expecting such a solid answer, but again, Haar wasn’t one to lie to him. Rodrigue pondered for a moment, why they would fight, but the knowledge of his son’s desire to get stronger and Haar’s past as a decorated soldier seemed to answer most of his questions. “Are you teaching him the ways of the sword, then?”

“Yeah. I’m not the best with it, not good enough to be a great teacher, but Felix was practically born for it.” It made him uneasy to raise a blade again, but so long as it wasn’t his axe or one of the lances Ike had made for him, Haar’s hands shook only a bit as he pointed the blunt weapon at his opponent. “I’m sorry.”

“This must be why he has taken such a liking to you as of late. When I called him last, he brought you up with no prompting.” Usually Felix would stay on the line but would make Rodrigue find the topics of discussion. “So long as you don’t hurt him, there is nothing I can fault you for, my friend.”

“I’d get hurt if anything, he’s got damn good reflexes. I’m serious,” he smiled softly, genuinely. “Friend, though? Just friend.”

“Mmm, this conversation has let me know you deserve little more than such a title.”

“Maybe I should stop yappin’ then.”

“Right. Were you not tired, Haar?”

“Like you’d let me get any sleep anyway.” He smiled again, playfully as the old man heaved himself up on top of him.

“Don’t allow me to steal what means the most to you away.”

“You still don’t get it,” the softest whisper left his lips, barely enough for Rodrigue to hear his partner at all. “I don’t feel the need to get away from you.”

“Stay.”

“I will.” Haar was given a kiss as thanks. “…stay up with me a bit.”

“I will.”

**Author's Note:**

> i am so sorry we steal everyone you love, haar.


End file.
